Blurry but timeless: a young Josh Crews doing what he liked best. He’d have agreed with something the narrator of Richard Flanagan’s “Gould’s Book of Fish” says: “Perhaps reading and writing books is one of the last defences human dignity has left, because in the end they remind us of what God once reminded us before He too evaporated in this age of relentless humiliations–that we are more than ourselves; that we have souls. And more, moreover.” (The photograph was contributed by his friend Joe Rizzo.) Josh Crews could be quick on the draw with a pen. Take his “Rosalita,” the page-and-a-splash story prefacing this year’s 10th-anniversary annual anthology of student writing that bears his name: in just a few broad strokes, two friends heading for the Bahamas board a boat that appeared to be in distress. It’s a trap. A violent coke-trundling man, his gun and his Rosalita want the two friends to take them to America. Big fight. Rosalita and her man (to whom she’d “administered a kiss that was in no way sisterly” before hell broke loose) end up overboard, presumably dead. But the two friends’ boat is sinking. “Throwing the bare essentials into a cooler, they put on flippers and started swimming. As the sun set, they were stroking out west—toward the mainland.”